Detour
by sssms
Summary: AU - Bosco wins a free vacation, but it takes a little detour.
1. Default Chapter

Detour, Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own them. I'm just borrowing them.

Bosco reached overhead once again trying to adjust the tiny air conditioning vent. He was beginning to think that accepting this FREE vacation was a big mistake. 'Four days on the sunny beaches of Pensacola, Florida. Hmph…at this rate, I'll never make it to Florida.'

The flight from New York to Memphis had been right on schedule. But then things fell apart. The layover in Memphis was supposed to be 45 minutes. But after a four hour wait, the airline finally told all the passengers that the flight had to be cancelled, something to do with a problem with the plane's landing gear that couldn't be resolved. They had offered to put the passengers up in a hotel overnight, but Bosco would have none of that. He was going on to Florida today or burst.

That's how he found himself in the smallest airplane he'd ever been on. It was no more than a puddle jumper. The seats were cramped and dingy. The air was musty. And the least amount of turbulence shook the tiny plane like a leaf.

'What have I gotten myself into? Jackson? Jackson, Mississippi, and then on to Florida. I didn't even know Mississippi had an airport. And from the size of this plane, it can't be very large. Crap.'

"You ever been to Mississippi, young man?"

Bosco looked up at the rather large woman sitting in the seat beside him.

"Um….no…..um…Maam." He tried to smile. "I'm not stopping." He made it clear. "I'm going on to Florida."

"Oh, that'll be nice. Where are you from?"

"New York" Bosco replied, hoping the lady would get back to her knitting and leave him alone.

"New York. Well I'll be….that must be an exciting place to live!" She let out a little chuckle.

"Um…yeah" Bosco replied with a nod.

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Bosco spent the next thirty minutes nodding and trying to be polite, as the woman chattered away beside him. Every so often he would glance out the window at the ground below. Green fields intermixed with small wooded areas. The sun was just beginning to set and the sky was a perfect mixture of rose and dusky blue.

Bosco closed his eyes, hoping he could ignore the lady beside him long enough to catch a quick nap. That plan was quickly interrupted by the plane lurching downward suddenly and the lady next to him screaming.

Bosco rubbed his ear as the plane leveled off and the overhead speaker came to life.

"Just a little turbulence, folks. Nothing to worry about." The pilot assured them.

"Sorry" the lady said sheepishly, seeing Bosco rubbing his ear.

"That's ok." He mumbled and turned back to the window.

Suddenly the plane dropped downward again and seemed to slow. Bosco's stomach flip-flopped, as the plane continued to descend and the emergency lights came on.

The pilot suddenly came over the loud speaker, his voice not nearly as calm as before. "Ladies and gentleman, we seem to be having a little engine trouble. Everyone please stay calm and listen for further instructions."

"ENGINE!" the lady next to Bosco shouted. "Oh dear Lord! Oh dear Lord! We're going to die! Help me, Jesus!" the lady next to Bosco shouted, then began muttering a frantic prayer.

Bosco, seeing others beginning to panic, instinctively went into police mode. "Maam, just calm down. We're not going to die. Just stay calm. Everyone just stay calm."

The plane lurched downward again as the nose dipped, causing the lady to screech loudly. Then the intercom sputtered to life.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we need to take emergency precautions. Everyone please make sure that your seatbelt is fastened. Place your food trays in the upright positions. Please place your head on your knees and clasp your hands behind your head. Again, please place your head on your knees and clasp your hands behind your head."

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Noise…..hideous, horrible noise….screaming….metal screeching…..

Pain…..terrible pain……

Cold…..bone chilling cold…….

Darkness…..


	2. Detour, Chapter 2

A little something to know about my writing style. Words in "quotes" are spoken and words in 'single quotes' are thoughts. Words in italics....welll, you'll have to figure those out.

Detour, Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still do not own them. But plan to have some fun with them.

Bosco lingered on the verge of consciousness, almost afraid to face the world around him. He felt strange. He hurt, but not like he expected too. 'Maybe I'm dead, or dying.'

He felt a rough wetness prodding his cheek. 'Maybe help has arrived.'

He thought he could make out voices, muffled words or maybe just noises. 'Is that a siren? Paramedics?' He could only hope.

Slowly he struggled to come back to the world around him. Cracking his eyelids open, his vision still slightly blurred, he was looking directly into a long wet snout.

"Ahhhhhhh" he grunted, as he jumped slightly. The movement and noise sending the group of pigs around him into a squealing frenzy. "What the..." Bosco watched the pigs scurry down a hill and out of site. Looking around cautiously, he saw nothing but woods. Sunlight trickled through the tree branches.

Slowly maneuvering from his back to his side, he tried to sit up. "Ahhhhhh" He propped himself up on one arm and held his aching head with the other. "Where is everyone?" He mumbled to himself. Searching the area around him, he expected to see the wreckage, other passengers, maybe even a rescue crew. But he saw none of that. Not a sign of a crash site. In fact nothing appeared to be disturbed.

Slowly standing on unsteady legs, he looked around again. 'Maybe I was thrown from the plane. But how would I have survived that? I'm relatively intact.' He thought, as he took a quick inventory. He was bleeding from a cut above his right eye and his whole body ached. His right arm was bleeding. Both the knees of his pants were torn and his left knee and shin definitely were missing some skin.

For the next twenty minutes, he slowly searched the area around him with disappointing results. Finally exhausted from that little effort, his mouth parched, he sat down on a tree stump to rest. Looking down at his feet, he noticed something shiny, partially covered by leaves. Reaching out, he retrieved the object that he recognized as one of the big lady's knitting needles. Staring at the object in disbelief, he recalled the lady's pleas as the plane descended. Looking up at the sky through the tree limbs, he offered up his own silent prayer.


	3. Detour, Chapter 3

Detour, Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or places.

Bosco was completely baffled by the whole situation. He had no idea where he was and no idea where the plane, or what must be left of it, was. All he knew was he hurt, he was thirsty, and it was getting hotter as the morning went on. Once he determined that sitting on a stump wasn't helping anything, he decided to follow the trail that the pigs had taken. Maybe they belonged to someone and he'd find help. He assumed that they weren't wild since they didn't try to hurt him. So, knitting needle in hand, he started out.

The trail was narrow and led over several steep wooded hills. Bosco found himself stumbling and having to hold onto small saplings as he made his journey. He stopped several times because he felt lightheaded. Twice he fell downhill, sliding through the leaves and twigs on his hands and knees, causing his left knee to bleed again.

Finally he came to the edge of a small ravine with a stream running along the bottom of it. Looking along its length for a place to cross, he spotted two worn planks that went from one side of the ravine to the other. Upon closer inspection, he wasn't sure how steady the planks would be. Looking down to the left, he saw an old tree that had fallen across the stream itself. He contemplated taking that route, but the tree was covered with brush and mud that made it more treacherous. Besides, he knew that he was wearing down quickly and was afraid if he climbed into the ravine he might not be able to get up the other side.

Looking back at the two planks that were side by side, he gingerly put his foot out to test their sturdiness. When he did so, he became dizzy again and teetered on the edge of the bank. Backing up, once he regained his balance, he grabbed onto a small tree and took a steadying breath. Deciding against walking across, he knelt down and began to crawl across the planks on his hands and knees. It was a slow and painful process, but he soon found himself safe on the opposite side. Pulling himself up on a nearby sapling, he wiped the sweat and blood from his face and trudged along in a daze.

Ezra Clemm was busy hoeing in his garden, when his black and tan hound let out a mournful howl. Ezra was a tall man in this fifty's, pleasantly overweight, with thick graying hair and a scruffy beard. He pulled a handkerchief from the bib pocket of his overalls and mopped his brow, looking up to see what the dog was making a fuss over.

Seeing a half crazed man stumble out of the woods, he gripped his hoe tightly in his right hand. The dog barked and howled furiously at the approaching visitor. "Shhhh…..shush, Rebel. Get on back up on the porch." The dog reluctantly did as told.

Taking a step forward, Ezra studied the man approaching, while keeping his guard up. His clothes were torn and mud covered. Blood dripped from his forehead and from his knee. He stumbled almost as if he were drunk. And he carried something in his hand that looked like…..a knittin needle? Ezra wondered if he might have escaped from prison or maybe even the state mental ward.

"Oh, thank God!" Bosco half-shouted. "You have to help me! There's been a plane crash! I need to call for help."

When Bosco stepped within a few feet, Ezra stuck his large hand out catching Bosco in the chest and pushing him away slightly, causing him to stumble backward. "Now just hold on, sonny, and take a step back there." Ezra ordered, adjusting the hoe in his grip. "Who are you and what are ya doin in my woods?"

"What?" Bosco looked at the man, confused. "My plane crashed! There's a plane full of people in your woods! Somewhere. I need to call for help! Please, you have to help me!"

"Everythin alright, Pa?"

Ezra looked up to see his wife, Myrtle, a few feet in front of the porch and coming their way. From her look, he knew that she had his .45 revolver hidden under her apron just in case. "This young chap says there's been a plane crash, Ma." Ezra answered, as Bosco turned and stumbled toward the woman.

"You have to help me! Please!" Bosco pleaded.

His approach to Myrtle was cut short by Ezra grabbing onto his left arm and jerking him to a halt. "Now you just hold on, boy. You stay away from my wife."

Bosco stumbled when Ezra yanked him back. The world around him began to spin and his vision dimmed. Reaching out, he grabbed onto the front of Ezra's overalls. "Please" he begged, tears streaming down his face. "Help me." His knees buckled and he started to go down, but Ezra caught him.

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Bosco could feel himself being carried, but couldn't open his eyes.

"Take and put 'im in Herman and Junior's room, Pa. Wanda Sue, quit gawkin and go get the turpentine." Myrtle ordered.

'Turpentine?' Bosco, in his jumbled thoughts, wondered what turpentine had to do with anything.

"What's goin on in there? Who is that young fella?" Grandma Clemm croaked.

"Never you mind, Grandma. Just keep your seat."

"I'm already up now." Grandma grumbled, looking down at the semi-conscious form that Ezra had placed on the bed. "Ezzzzra! You gonna get my quilt dirty. That boy's filthy. Looks like he's done been in the pig pen."

"I'm sorry, Grandma. Little fella's a might heavier'n he looks." Ezra replied, catching his breath.

"I got the turpentine, Ma." Wanda Sue reported. "Can I help?"

"Turpentine" Bosco mumbled.

"No, you ain't helpin." Ezra answered, before Myrtle could. "This here's a job for the women folks."

"But, Pa, I'm 22." Wanda Sue protested.

"I don't care. You ain't got no business in here when they clean this boy up. Now get!" Ezra ordered and pointed to the door.

Wanda Sue crossed her arms over her chest with a "Hmmph" and left.

"Will you two be ok with 'im?" Ezra asked.

"We'll be fine, Pa." Myrtle assured him. "The shape he's in, he couldn't hurt a flea no way."

"Good. I'm gonna go look for this here plane the boy was mutterin on about."

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Bosco could hear voices and feel hands tugging at his clothes, but he couldn't make them out clearly. Then he felt a scorching pain. Almost as if his flesh was on fire. He tried to call out for help, but all he could manage was a muffled cry.

Again, through the pain, he heard voices. _More turpentine. Wouldn't want his leg to rot off. Eww, that's nasty._

Then more voices, calling his name. _Maurice. Mr. Boscorelli. Do you know where you are?_

'I'm in Hell' he thought, but couldn't speak. 'Help me. Somebody, help me.'


	4. Detour, Chapter 4

Detour, Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or places. But I do own the Clemm family.

Bosco rolled over onto his side with a groan, trying to figure out why his alarm clock sounded like a rooster crowing. Slowly opening his eyes, he began to panic when he didn't recognize the dimly lit room. Propping himself up on an elbow, he winced in pain. Looking around again, he spotted a little sandy haired boy, dressed in overalls, sitting in a chair beside the bed, bare feet dangling, watching him intently.

Suddenly, the little boy jumped down from the chair and headed to the door. "Pa! Pa Clemm! He's awake!"

"Pa Clemm?" Bosco muttered to himself, pushing himself upright in the bed. Looking down at the quilt that covered him, he began to remember the plane…the crash…the trek through the woods…the farmer…the…..turpentine?

"Well, it's about time you woke up. You mite near slept for a whole day." Pa Clemm's voiced boomed in the tiny room. "How you feelin, son?"

Bosco looked up at Pa Clemm in confusion. 'How am I feeling?' Bosco wanted to tell this man just how he was feeling. He hurt. His right arm and left leg were still burning, from the turpentine he supposed. And he was as confused as ever. He felt like he'd fallen out of a spaceship onto another planet. But all he managed to say was "Okay, I guess."

Bosco looked down and played nervously with the edge of the quilt. "Where am I?"

"You're at Clemm Creek." Pa Clemm replied.

"In Mississippi?" Bosco hesitantly asked.

"The one and only." Pa replied with a chuckle.

"What time is it?" Bosco questioned.

"It's almost 6:30. Grandma's holdin breakfast for you."

Bosco looked up in surprise. "It's 6:30 in the morning? Can I use your phone? I need to call for help? I don't know if anyone has found the plane yet." Bosco sputtered.

Pa Clemm looked at Bosco with concern. "Well, we ain't got no phone. Never saw much use for one myself. And as for this plane, Rebel and I searched these here woods high and low all afternoon yestedy and there ain't no plane here. Rebel is the best trackin dog I've ever had and if there'd been a plane, he woulda found it."

"Look, Mister." Bosco was beginning to get annoyed. "I'm here because my plane crashed yesterday. In these woods. I didn't just fall out of the sky. And this is exactly why you need a phone! IT'S CALLED AN EMERGENCY!" Bosco's voice rose higher with every sentence.

Pa Clemm put his hands up, in an effort to calm Bosco down. "Now look, son. There ain't no need to yell. I don't know what happened to ya. But I know I didn't find no plane."

Bosco sighed; he didn't know why this man couldn't understand the seriousness of this. "Look, I'm sorry. Could you just take me into town? Let me talk to the local police? Maybe they can help me."

"I'd be glad too, 'cept we're 40 miles from no where. And our oldest boy Herman has the only truck that runs. He's goin to the agricultural college to get some book learnin and don't come home but twiced a month. Just left yestedy, in fact."

'Unbelievable….this is unreal….this is not real… I am not here….' Bosco ranted to himself.

"What's your name, boy?" Pa Clemm asked him.

Bosco was snapped back to the conversation. "Um…Maurice. Maurice Boscorelli."

"Boska...what? That sounds like a Yankee name. I think I'll just call you Maurice." Pa Clemm replied.

"I'm from New York."

"New York eh…that explains a lot. Well anyway, Mr. Maurice Boska..whatever, we'd be glad for ya to stay with us, until we can getcha into town. Of course, once you're feelin a mite better, I'll expect you to earn your keep. But for now, you can help Junior and Wanda Sue with some of their chores. Anyway, Grandma Clemm will be gettin upset if we make her wait breakfast much longer. Ma washed some of your clothes and found some of Herman's things for ya to wear. They may be a mite big, but they'll have to do." He pointed to a pile of clothes on the dresser. "She's gotta try to mend your britches. So why don't you get dressed and come join us."

With that, Pa Clemm was out the door, leaving Bosco to shake his head in disbelief. Deciding that he would just have to play along for now, until he could figure out how to get out of this mess, he slowly began to climb out of bed. "Ahhhhh" he groaned. Placing his hand on the bedside stand to push himself up, he noticed the knitting needle lying there. He picked it up and felt the cold metal between his fingers, trying to make sure that it was real. 'I'm not crazy. And you're proof of it.'


	5. Detour, Chapter 5

Detour, Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or places.

Bosco looked down at the overalls he was wearing that must have been at least two sizes too large. He had already rolled the cuffs up twice and taken the shoulder straps up a good two inches. Still, they were much better than the cotton nightgown he had realized he was wearing when he finally got out of bed. He felt like he was trapped in an episode of the Waltons.

Making sure that his t-shirt was tucked in, he sat down on the edge of the bed pulling on his socks and tennis shoes. Rising, he turned toward the door, but turned back when he remembered the knitting needle. Tucking it away safely in the back pocket of the overalls, he headed out to meet the Clemms.

"Well, it's about time you decided to join us. My bickets was gettin cold." Grandma Clemm half-shouted when she saw Bosco. "Well, have a seat, boy. I ain't gettin no younger."

Bosco just nodded at the old lady who looked to be in her eighties. "Sorry" he mumbled as he sat in a chair between the little sandy haired boy and Pa Clemm.

"Well, Maurice, I guess it's time you should meet the family. This here's my wife, Myrtle." He said pointing.

"Pleased to know you, Maurice." Myrtle replied.

"And this here's Wanda Sue." He pointed to the shapely brunette sitting beside Myrtle. The girl just grinned at Bosco.

"And Grandma's made herself known." He gestured to his mother, who gave him a scowl in return.

"And that there's Junior." He pointed to the little sandy haired boy who eyed Bosco suspiciously.

"And now that we're acquainted, bless the food, Ezra." Grandma ordered.

"Yes'um" Ezra replied, bowing his head slightly. Reaching out, he took Myrtle's hand in his left and offered his right hand to Bosco.

Bosco, baffled by the gesture, glanced around to see the others taking each other's hands to form a circle. Feeling a small hand touch his own, he looked down to see Junior looking up at him, his eyes wide. Trying to force a smile, Bosco took Junior's hand in his right and clasped hands with Pa Clemm to his left.

"Heavenly Father, we ask Thee to bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies and Thy Word to the nourishment of our souls. In Thy Son's name. Amen."

"Amen" Bosco mumbled and crossed himself, earning a second look from Ma Clemm.

"Pass the buttermilk, Ezra." Grandma Clemm demanded.

Breakfast was a lively event with all the requests for food to be passed and the subtle and sometimes not so subtle attempts by the Clemm's to find out more about their guest.

"So…um…Maurice, where were you headed b'fore ya …um…b'fore ya…ended up here?" Wanda Sue questioned.

"Florida." Bosco replied quietly.

"What fer?" Junior asked.

"Cat fur to make kitten britches." Grandma Clemm quipped. "Landsakes child, you ask too many questions. All of ya do. Leave the poor boy be and let him finish his vittles."

Although he didn't have much of an appetite, Bosco was grateful that the interrogation ended.

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When breakfast was finished, Bosco, Wanda Sue, and Junior headed out to care for the animals, while Grandma and Myrtle cleaned up the dishes. And Pa Clemm headed out to the garden.

Bosco was looking out at the woods where the plane had crashed, while Wanda Sue rambled on about the intricacies of tending chickens.

"Maurice? Maurice!" Wanda Sue called, finally getting Bosco's attention.

"Sorry. What?" Bosco mumbled.

"I said, ya may want to watch where ya walk. They's uh….they's chicken poop scattered about." She said pointing down to the ground. "The chickens ain't real particular about where they go, seein as they're loose in the yard. And Grandma Clemm don't take kindly to folks trackin it in her house."

Bosco looked down at his feet and saw that his tennis shoe was indeed in the edge of a small pile of the disgusting substance. Looking back up, he saw Junior come running by in his bare feet with a cat like agility, never coming near any of the "poop" although he never actually looked at the ground.

As they neared the henhouse, the rooster ruffled his feathers and took a few steps towards Bosco.

"You stop that Ben!" Wanda Sue snapped, waving her arms at the animal. "Get on now. It's ok, Maurice. He just likes to make a scene."

The rooster ruffled his feathers once more, but was distracted by Junior calling out and spreading corn across the ground. "Chick chick chick chickeee. Here chick chick chick."

Entering the now empty henhouse, Wanda Sue pointed to the long row of nests and the scattered eggs in them. "Ma and Grandma are gonna need 'um for bakin tonight." She started gathering while Bosco just stood there holding the little metal bucket Ma Clemm had given him. "It'd go a bit faster if ya helped, Maurice." Wanda pointed out.

Bosco reached hesitantly into one of the nests grasping an egg daintily between the tips of two fingers and placing it in his bucket.

Wanda Sue let out a small chuckle at the disgusted expression on his face.

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"Souieeee" Wanda Sue called out. Pointing to a feed trough, she motioned for Bosco to pour the contents of his bucket into the trough. He gagged as he did so.

"You ain't never slopped no pigs b'fore I guess?" Wanda Sue questioned.

"Um….no." Bosco replied. He didn't know how any creature could eat this …mess. He watched as a group of pigs came out from the edge of the woods.

Wanda Sue looked around quickly as she heard a piglet squeal. "JUNIOR CLEMM! You stay away from them babies, ya hear! Pa's gonna skin your hide!" Wanda Sue headed over to where the boy was reaching through a wood and wire fence trying to play with one of the baby pigs.

Grabbing Junior by the arm, she pulled him to his feet. "Junior! What did we tell ya about them babies? Louise is gonna eat you up if ya keep that up!"

Junior pulled away from Wanda Sue and sulked off as Bosco approached.

"We done told 'im to leave them babies alone. Louise don't take kindly too ya messin with um. She's already tried to eat Junior up twice. That's why she's locked up separate." Wanda explained to Bosco.

Bosco looked over the fence at the biggest pig he'd ever seen and her six piglets.

"Pour the rest of that feed into her trough and I'll get 'er some corn." Wanda Sue instructed.

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Pa looked up from his hoeing to see Maurice sitting on the edge of the front porch, starring off into the woods. He'd been in that same position for nearly an hour now. Pa sighed, and headed up toward the house. It was around 11:00 AM and it was already extremely hot. He decided that he might as well take a break and take Maurice back into the woods so he could see for himself that there was no plane there. As Pa stepped up onto the porch, he spoke. "Let me tell Ma to hold dinner for us and we'll take us a walk and see what we can find."

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Pa looked at his pocket watch, then back at Maurice. It was almost 2:00 PM. 'Poor boy looks like he might fall over any minute now.' Pa thought. "We best not keep Ma waitin any longer, Maurice."

Bosco turned to look at him, his face a picture of defeat. He knew that Pa Clemm had kept looking for his sake. He swallowed hard trying to control his emotions and finally nodded his head.

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The trip back to the house seemed to take an eternity. By the time they arrived, Bosco was exhausted. Stumbling through the front door, he stopped as Ma Clemm looked up at him.

"I kept out some dinner for ya. It's likely a mite cold by now." She said with a smile.

Bosco glanced back at Pa Clemm who had entered behind him.

"Um…I'm not really hungry." He muttered quietly.

"Why don't ya rest a bit, Maurice? They'll be plenty left when ya wake up." Pa replied.

Bosco was grateful that Pa Clemm seemed to understand his need to be alone. Entering the bedroom he'd slept in the night before, he pulled his shoes off and placed the knitting needle on the night stand before lying down.

As Bosco drifted, the voices returned. Voices….shouting….terrible screams. Pleas for help and cries for mercy.

And then another voice, more comforting. One that he sounded almost familiar.

_Maurice. It's ok, Maurice. You're safe. _

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Disclaimer #2: I do not own the Waltons.

Footnotes:

The breakfast prayer – courtesy of my Uncle Eddie.

"Cat fur to make kitten britches" courtesy of my Maw Maw.

Dinner in the South is the same as lunch. The evening meal is often called supper.


	6. Detour, Chapter 6

Detour, Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or places, but the Clemms are my people.

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As Bosco drifted, the voices returned. Voices….shouting….terrible screams. Pleas for help and cries for mercy.

And then another voice, more comforting. One that he sounded almost familiar.

_Maurice. It's ok, Maurice. You're safe. _

"NO!" Bosco shouted out as he said straight up in the bed. His breathing was rapid, his hair matted with sweat. Much to his dismay, he noted that he was still at Clemm Creek.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

Swinging his legs off the side of the bed with a groan, Bosco reached out to retrieve the knitting needle from the bedside table. Stopping suddenly, he stared at the empty spot where the needle should have been. 'I know I put it there.'

After looking around the table, he decided to search the floor surrounding it. 'Maybe it just fell off.'

When that search was unrevealing, Bosco began to panic. 'It has to be here.' Standing up, he searched the bedside table again, then the bed itself, frantically throwing the covers to the floor. "No….no….no." He muttered out loud, as his heart began to thump faster in his chest. Dropping to the floor on his already battered knees, he glanced under the edge of the bed. When he saw no sign of the needle, he swept his hand along the floor under the bed as far as he could reach. He collected a few splinters in his hand from the rough wood floor, but no knitting needle.

"This can't be happening. It has to be here. It has to be. I'm not crazy."

For the next twenty minutes, Bosco searched every corner of the bedroom like a madman. By the time he'd finished, it was completely destroyed. Finally stopping in the middle of the room, he grasped the edges of his hair with his hands and pulled, shaking his head back and forth. "Argggggggghhhhhhh…." He groaned. "It was here! It is real! I know it is!"

Shoving his feet into his shoes, he ran from the room, having decided that he'd search the whole house if he had too. Entering the joined living/dining area, he saw Grandma Clemm sitting in her rocker knitting a sweater. Running over, he snatched sweater and all from her hands. Grandma gave him a strange look, but held her tongue. "This isn't it. Wrong color." He mumbled, tossing the objects back into Grandma's lap. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?" Grandma asked, confused.

"THE KNITTING NEEDLE!" Bosco shouted, shaking his head from side to side. His chest tightened and he suddenly turned toward the door. "I have to get out of here." He mumbled.

Stumbling across the front porch and down the steps, Bosco stopped and scanned the tree line at the edge of the woods. "The plane has to be here…has too."

Scanning the yard, he saw Junior playing in the dirt. He took a second look when he saw the sun reflect off of something in the little boy's hand. "You little…." Bosco broke into a run and was soon at the boy's side. Seeing that the boy did indeed have the knitting needle in his hand, Bosco grabbed the strap to his overalls and jerked him to his feet. Reaching for the needle, he yelled at the startled child. "Give me that! It's not yours! You have no right!"

"It's mine!" The little boy shouted back, holding the needle away from Bosco.

"It's not yours, you little thief! It belongs to Polly! Now, give it here!"

"No!" Junior shouted, trying to squirm away. He punched at Bosco.

Giving the boy a vigorous shake by his overalls, Bosco continued to scream at him. "STOP! GIVE IT TO ME! IT'S NOT YOURS! IT'S NOT YOURS, YOU LITTLE MONSTER!"

Suddenly Bosco felt himself being yanked around and found himself face to face with a very angry Ezra Clemm.

Junior, taking advantage of Bosco's surprise, slipped from his grip and ran towards the house with the knitting needle in hand. He ran past Grandma, Ma and Wanda Sue who were now looking on from the porch.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU, BOY?" Pa Clemm shouted, shaking Bosco. His knuckles were white from the grip he had on Bosco's overall straps. "ARE YOU CRAZY? If I ever see ya lay a hand on Junior again, I'll beat the tar out of ya!" Loosening his grip, he pushed Bosco slightly away from him, afraid that he'd loose control and hurt the much smaller man.

"HE TOOK IT!" Bosco shouted at Pa after he had recovered. "HE TOOK THE KNITTING NEEDLE! IT'S NOT HIS!"

Pa Clemm shook his head and pointed a finger in Bosco's face. "That attachment you got to that knittin needle ain't normal, boy!"

"IT'S NOT HIS!" Bosco repeated. "It's Polly's." He said more quietly, his voice wavering. "Polly Bennett. Her husband is a planter. She was coming back from visiting her daughter and grandchildren when the plane crashed. But you don't care about that! NONE OF YOU CARE!" Bosco's voice escalated, as he waved his arms around. "YOU ALL GO ON LIKE NOTHING HAS HAPPENED AND PEOPLE ARE HURT OUT THERE! MAYBE DEAD! YOU'RE THE ONES WHO ARE CRAZY!" Bosco bit his bottom lip and clenched his fists at his sides. "I have to get out of here. I have to go."

"Maurice." Pa Clemm said quietly, reaching out towards Bosco's shoulder.

"No!" Bosco shrugged Pa Clemm off. "I have to go." He muttered, then turned and ran towards the woods.

Back on the porch, Grandma Clemm shook her head as well. "That boy's touched. Touched in the head, I say." She turned and went back into the house.


	7. Detour, Chapter 7

"Double quotes" are spoken words, 'single quotes' are thoughts, but not spoken.

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Detour, Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own the original characters or places, but the Clemms are mine.

Making her way quietly through the trees, Wanda Sue glanced through the clearing ahead. She spotted Maurice sitting on the edge of the ravine through which the creek ran. His arms were wrapped around his legs, his head on his knees. She could see his shoulders shaking and as she got closer she heard quiet sobbing.

Sitting down on the plush grass beside Bosco, she remained quiet for a few moments, trying to decide how to approach him. "Maurice" she said quietly, placing a hand on his arm.

Bosco wiped his face on the leg of his overalls, trying to hide his tears. "Leave me alone." He mumbled with a sigh.

Wanda Sue glanced around taking in the view of the creek and the surrounding woods. Then she decided to try again. "Maurice, I brought somethin for ya."

"I said leave me …." Bosco stopped abruptly when he looked up and saw the knitting needle in Wanda Sue's hand. Reaching out, he grabbed it hastily. Then resting his elbows on his knees, he stared at the needle. "He shouldn't have taken it." He said quietly.

"No, he shouldn't of taken it. And Pa is havin a little talk with him right now about that. I'm sure he won't be doin it again." Wanda Sue replied.

Bosco remained silent.

"You can tell me about it." Wanda Sue commented.

"About what?" Bosco half-whispered.

"About the knittin needle….and the plane." Wanda said hesitantly.

"Why? You all think I'm crazy anyway." Bosco replied, looking at Wanda. "Don't you?" He laughed and looked back over the ravine. "How could you not? I'm even beginning to think I've lost my mind."

Wanda Sue was unsure of what to say. 'Yeah, I think you're crazy as a road lizard. How'd you come up with such a cock-a-maimy story?'

She was pretty sure that Maurice wouldn't appreciate that. She cleared her throat. "Umm....Well, I….I'd like to think you're not crazy, Maurice. I mean, not that I want there to be a plane out there, or all those people hurt. But I want to believe ya. I know that you believe it. It's just…well…with Pa not findin no plane and all….I'm not sure what to think." Stopping, she watched for a reaction from Maurice, but didn't get one.

"Ya know, Maurice. Sometimes when things get all confused, we just have to have faith. Even if we don't understand it all, the Good Lord will work it out."

"That sounds pretty simple." Bosco replied. "I wish it were that easy for me."

"It might be simple, but I never said it were easy, Maurice. It ain't easy. But sometimes we just have to hang in there and let the Good Lord work things out in His own time."

Bosco ran his fingers along the knitting needle. "Well, I wish the Good Lord would hurry up."

Wanda Sue chuckled slightly. Maurice didn't strike her as the patient type. "Well, while we're waitin, maybe we should just try to make the best of it. Huh?"

"I guess so." Bosco muttered.

"Good then. Ma Clemm wants some mulberries to make a cobbler. You want to help with the pickin?"

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"Junior Clemm, you be careful up there. If'n ya fall out a that tree, Ma will have both our hides." Wanda Sue yelled, as the little boy rode one of the mulberry limbs shaking the ripened berries off onto the tattered sheets that covered the ground.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Bosco asked, looking curiously at the long cane pole in his hand.

"Just reach up and whack them limbs an the ripe berries will fall right off. Then we can collect em off of the sheet." Wanda replied. "And make sure ya don't whack Junior." She added.

Bosco looked up and smiled deviously at Junior who was now straddling a larger limb and eyeing him suspiciously. Junior stuck his tongue out in return.

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Dinner, or supper, as the Clemms called it was a quiet affair. Junior made sure to sit across the table from Bosco rather than beside him. And Bosco occasionally looked up to see one or more of the group staring at him. Despite the excitement of the afternoon, Ma and Grandma had cooked a feast of deer meat with biscuits and gravy and "mashed taters" as Wanda called them. The deer meat was a first for Bosco, but the mulberry cobbler was undoubtedly the best thing Bosco had tasted in months. He wondered if he could find mulberries in New York.

Afterward, Grandma Clemm sat in her rocking chair reading from the Bible while the others gathered around to listen. Junior fell asleep in Pa Clemm's lap. The scene reminded Bosco of sitting at his own grandmother's knee while she told Bible stories or stories from the old country. He smiled at the memory that he had almost forgotten.

He watched them, thinking that despite the simpleness of their lives and the many aspects of modern society that they seemed to miss out on, they had something special.

"Maurice. Maurice?"

Bosco glanced up quickly at the Ma Clemm, who had a hand on his shoulder. Looking back across the room, he saw that the rocking chair was empty. There was no sign of Pa Clemm or Junior. And Wanda Sue was clearing the table. He must have zoned out on them for a while.

"Why don't ya go to bed, Maurice. Ya look plum tuckered out." Ma Clemm commented.

Bosco nodded his head. "I think I'll do that. Thanks."

Bosco stretched out in the bed and pulled the covers up. He was grateful for the moonlight coming through the window to partially illuminate the room. He was exhausted physically and mentally. And his leg and arm still burned.

Closing his eyes, he heard the occasional clanging of a dish being washed. He also heard the faint sound of singing. He didn't recognize the song, but soon realized that it must be a hymn. It was beautiful, despite the distinct twang of the voice singing it.

"Some-where the sun is shin-ing, Some-where the song-birds dwell; Hush, then, thy sad re-pin-ing, God lives, and all is well."

_Oh dear Lord! Oh dear Lord! We're going to die! Help me, Jesus! _

"Polly?" Bosco mumbled.

"Some-where, Some-where, Beau-ti-ful Isle of Some-where!"

_Maurice. Maurice, baby. It's me. It's ok, baby. I'm right here. _

"Ma?"

"Land of the true, where we live a-new, Beau-ti-ful Isle of Some-where!"

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Footnotes:

Mulberries….hmmm… if ya ain't tried em, ya don't know what you're missin.

"Beautiful Isle of Somewhere" written by Jessie B. Pounds with arrangement by J.S. Ferris.

Caution: Riding limbs is not an approved method of picking mulberries, even in Mississippi. Do not try this at home. However, whacking limbs or shaking them with a rope or by hand and collecting the berries on an old sheet works marvelously.


	8. Detour, Chapter 8

Detour, Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or places.

Morning came early for Bosco after a fitful night. Breakfast was much the same as the previous day, except bacon was served instead of ham. Again, Bosco joined Wanda Sue and Junior in feeding the chickens and the pigs. Then they embarked on a new adventure at the direction of Grandma Clemm.

"Shooo shooo." Bosco waved his arms at the chicken that was the object of their chase.

"Maurice, you're s'posed to be tryin to catch her, not scare her away." Wanda Sue smirked.

"Yeah, I tried that and it bit me." Bosco replied sarcastically.

"A little peck never hurt nobody." Wanda answered him.

Junior ran towards the chicken they were trying to catch, causing it to run back towards Bosco in a desperate attempt to escape. "Catch her, city boy." Junior shouted.

Bosco was fast growing tired of this game. Reaching out, he grabbed the hen by her tail feathers. "Be still, you stupid bird." He grumbled.

The hen clucked with all her might, causing Ben, the rooster, to ruffle his feathers and charge at Bosco.

"AHHHHHHH" Bosco screamed as Ben sunk his spurs into Bosco's already injured leg, causing him to release the hen.

"BEN! NO!" Wanda Sue shouted as she and Bosco tried to fight the rooster off.

Grandma Clemm rolled her eyes.

"I got her." Junior announced, having finally caught the chicken.

Meanwhile, Wanda finally managed to get Ben away from Bosco.

"You're bleeding, Maurice." Wanda pointed out.

"Yeah, no kidding." Bosco huffed, turning toward the house. He slowed as he passed Grandma Clemm, who now had the hen in one arm.

Swallowing dryly, Bosco hesitantly asked, "You're not going to um ….ring her neck….are you?"

"Of course not, boy." Grandma replied. "They's better ways of doin it." Grandma grinned, an almost evil twinkle in her eye, as she pulled her other hand from behind her back to reveal a razor sharp hatchet.

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"Ouch…..ouch…..owww…." Bosco muttered under his breath.

Wanda Sue seemed oblivious and continued her work.

Pa Clemm was looking on and finally took pity on Bosco. Stepping to the edge of the garden, he asked, "Maurice, you know anything about mechanicing?"

Bosco looked up from where he had been picking okra. "I know a little. I'm pretty good with older models. Why?"

"Why don't you leave that pickin to the women folk and come take a look at somethin for me?" Pa Clemm suggested, turning towards the barn.

'Gladly.' Bosco followed, wondering what Pa Clemm wanted him to work on, hoping that maybe they had another vehicle besides Herman's truck that could be repaired.

Bosco stopped in his tracks when Pa Clemm swung the door to the barn open to reveal a very old and worn appearing tractor.

"I can't seem to get her goin this time. I need to bush hog one of the other pastures and plant some more corn for the chickens and hogs. I thought you might want to take a looksee." Pa explained.

Bosco gave Pa Clemm a bewildered look and then looked back at the tractor. The closest he'd ever been to a tractor was playing with a little toy tractor as a child and that had belonged to a friend of his who'd moved to the city from upstate. But he didn't want to tell Pa Clemm that. The man already seemed to think he was hopeless. Besides, he could at least try. It beat picking okra any day. "I'll take a look at 'er." Bosco replied and went to work.

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Two hours later, Bosco was still completely enthralled with his little project. He really enjoyed mechanic work. And actually the tractor motor wasn't that different from any other motor. He looked up as he heard the barn door open.

"How's it goin?" Pa Clemm asked.

"Good." Bosco replied with a smile, one of the few Pa Clemm had seen from him.

The two men chatted, while Bosco continued to work. Somehow, the conversation turned to their families. Bosco told him about Rose and Mikey, but didn't mention his father. Then he asked Pa Clemm about Junior.

"Junior must have been a surprise since he's so much younger than Wanda Sue and your other son." He commented.

Ezra pursed his lips and looked at the ground. "Yeah, I'd say he was a surprise alright. He's Wanda Sue's boy." He looked back up to see Bosco's reaction, which was nothing more than a curious glance.

"We had us a young feller working here for a summer. Turned out he wasn't worth a plug nickel. I should have known it I guess by that smile. Ran around half the time grinnin like a jackass eatin briars. First thing I know, he up and leaves. Then my baby girl turns out pregnant." Pa Clemm sighed. "I guess it's a good thing he left b'fore I fount out or I'd likely be in jail for killin him."

Bosco watched as Pa Clemm clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. He involuntarily took a step back.

Pa Clemm noticed Bosco's movement and his own tense posture. He tried to relax a bit. "But that's all water under the bride. Wanda Sue is really a good girl." He commented. "Did ya need anything, Maurice?"

Bosco looked back at the tractor. "Do you have any electrical tape? I need something to cap off the end of this hose." He added, holding up one end of a hose for Pa Clemm to see.

"I think I've got some duct tape, but no electrical tape. And Grandma Clemm may have a snuff can that will fit that hose. I'll go check." Pa commented, then left.

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Bosco finally managed to get the tractor cranked just in time for lunch. Afterward, he sat in the swing under the shade of the oak tree. He was just about to doze off when he heard a piglet squeal and then a shrill scream.

It took him a moment to realize what must be happening. Jumping up, he ran toward Louise's pen. To his horror, he saw Junior dangling from Louise's huge jaws. The sow was shaking him back and forth like a rag doll while Junior let out a terrified scream.

Not knowing what else to do, Bosco scaled the fence with one leap and jumped onto Louise's back.

The pig went into a frenzy, not only jerking Junior around, but swaying back and forth trying to throw Bosco from her back.

Bosco wrapped his arms around the pig's giant neck and looked to see how Junior was trapped. Luckily for the boy, it appeared that Louise held him by the back of his overalls and not his flesh. Bosco tugged at the cloth, trying to pull it from Louise's mouth.

Louise shifted her hips again and almost tossed Bosco aside.

Out of desperation, Bosco pulled the knitting needle from his back pocket and jabbed Louise in the snout. The move caused her to drop Junior, but also made her more angry.

Louise lurched forward, hitting the fence hard, causing the old dry boards to splinter. Once free, she ran across the Clemm's yard towards the garden with Bosco hanging on for dear life.

Ezra Clemm, having heard some commotion from the direction of the pig pen, stepped out on the porch just in time to see Louise race across the yard with Bosco on her back. "What in tarnation? Maurice, have you lost your mind?!! Get off that pig, you fool!" Ezra shouted, as he ran after the two.

Louise never slacked up. She hit the garden fence full speed and one of the boards smacked Bosco in the forehead knocking him from her back.

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_Maurice? Maurice, baby, can you hear me? _

"Ma?"

"Maurice! Maurice, open your eyes!"

Bosco struggled to open his eyes, unsure what was going on in the world around him. He felt a cool compress against his forehead.

"Maurice?"

Opening his eyes slowly, he saw the entire Clemm family staring down at him.

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Bosco rested in bed for the rest of the afternoon and evening. His head throbbed. His knee burned. His whole body ached. His little experience with Louise had left him totally drained.

At some point, he heard a very faint knock on the door.

"Come in." He muttered, half hoping whoever it was would change their mind and go away.

The door cracked open and Junior peaked in. He made his way slowly to Bosco's bedside, his head down and hands in his pockets. Finally he glanced up at Bosco and spoke almost in a whisper. "I'm sorry, Mr. Maurice. I didn't mean for ya to get hurt. I won't never mess with Louise's babies again. I promise."

Bosco could see tears well up in the little boys eyes and as much as he wanted to be mad at Junior, he couldn't. "Hey, it's ok, buddy. I know you didn't mean for it to happen."

Junior looked up again, finally meeting Bosco's eyes. "Do you forgive me? I won't be a bad boy no more."

Bosco sighed. "Yes, Junior. I forgive you and you're not a bad boy." Bosco assured him.

"I'm not?" Junior questioned. Bosco nodded his head 'no.'

"Thanks, Mr. Maurice." Junior said with a smile.

"You're welcome, Junior. But you know, all my buddies call me Bosco. Why don't you just call me that?"

Junior grinned at him. "I like that. Thanks, Mr. Bosco."


	9. Detour, Chapter 9

Detour, Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or places.

At breakfast the following morning Junior sat next to Bosco, chattering away about his pet snake that had died and how he was going to find a new pet snake. Bosco pretended to listen intently, although his throbbing head made it difficult for him to concentrate.

"Can ya help me find a new pet snake, Mr. Bosco?" Junior asked.

"What?" Bosco questioned, wondering if he'd heard the little boy correctly.

"No, Junior." Pa Clemm interrupted. "Mr. Bosco can't help ya, cause he's got to help me find Louise. If'n you had left Louise alone, maybe Mr. Bosco could hunt snakes with ya today."

Junior frowned, and looked back down at his plate.

Pa Clemm had spent most of the evening before repairing the pen and looking for the renegade pig. Now he was about to speak again, but stopped when he heard Rebel barking madly at something.

"I wonder what ole Reb is barkin at?" Ma Clemm commented.

Pa walked over to the window and looked out. "THAT'S IT!" He exclaimed. "Get my rifle, Wanda."

"What's wrong, Ezra?" Ma Clemm asked.

"That crazy pig is rootin up the garden." Pa answered.

Wanda appeared at his side with a rifle and cartridges. "You ain't goin to shoot Louise, are ya Pa?"

Bosco looked on astonished.

"I shore am. We're lucky Junior's alive. If it hadn't been for Maurice, he might not be. That's three times now. I ain't takin no more chances. Besides, I was gonna butcher her come fall anyway." Ezra replied, heading towards the front door.

"But Pa…." Wanda started to complain, only to be stopped by Pa Clemm.

"Don't 'but Pa' me, gal. You just stay put. I'll handle this." With that, Ezra stormed out the door toward the garden.

Ma Clemm, Bosco, and even Grandma Clemm followed him as far as the porch.

Pa Clemm stopped at the edge of the garden and yelled at Louise. "Get out of them taters, ya pile of lard."

Louise squealed slightly and continued to root around in the garden.

Pa Clemm took a step closer and aimed his rifle. Holding the pig in his sites for several seconds, he finally relented and lowered the gun. "Crazy sow. Get out now. Go on." Picking up a clod of dirt, he threw it at Louise.

Louise turned quickly towards Pa Clemm and grunted, before taking off in a run, charging at the unsuspecting farmer.

"EZZZRA!" Ma Clemm let out a frightened yelp.

Pa Clemm reacted quickly, throwing he rifle barrel in line with the charging pig and firing.

Bosco was so taken in by the scene that he failed to hear Grandma Clemm comment, "Well, I guess we'll be havin chittlins tonight."

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Bosco had no idea how much hard work was required to put ham on the breakfast table. He and Pa Clemm had spent most of the day butchering poor crazy Louise and putting the meat in the freezer. It was a bloody mess and the day was hot. Thankfully, the women folks had taken away some of the nastier parts, to dispose of, Bosco assumed.

They finally finished in the mid-afternoon.

"Well, it's too late to start bush hoggin tonight. I guess we'd best let that be until t'morrow. I'm gonna go sit a spell, Maurice." Pa Clemm commented, after the two washed up at an outside hydrant.

Bosco thought 'sittin a spell' sounded like a very good idea, but his plans were interrupted by Junior tugging on his pants leg.

"Mr. Bosco. Mr. Bosco, will ya play with us?" Junior pleaded.

"Play?" Bosco questioned.

"Mr. Bosco don't want to play, Junior. He's probably all tuckered out." Wanda Sue interjected.

"Play what?" Bosco asked, curiously.

"Jug ball" Junior announced.

"Jug ball?"

Soon, Bosco found himself introduced to a favorite Southern past time. Picking up what appeared to be a half of an old boat paddle, split down the middle, Bosco stood beside the short plank that was substituting for home plate. He readied himself as Wanda Sue prepared to throw a recently emptied plastic milk jug towards him. When the jug came within range, Bosco swung.

The paddle connected hard, causing the last few drops of milk to explode from the jug into Bosco's face. Momentarily stunned by the warm liquid, Bosco was slow to start toward the makeshift first base. Still he knew he could outrun Junior who now had the milk jug in hand. He slowed slightly wondering if he should let the little boy tag him out.

But Junior had other plans in mind. Raring back, he threw the milk jug as hard as he could, hitting Bosco in the side of the head.

"You're out!" Junior shouted. "You're out!"

"Hey! Owww! That's not fair." Bosco whined, as he clutched his head.

"Is too fair. Them's the rules. Tag em or wapp um…it don't matter." Junior exclaimed.

Bosco gave Wanda Sue a questioning look.

"I guess I should of warned ya of that. I'm sorry, Maurice." Wanda replied sheepishly.

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Supper could not have come soon enough for Bosco. After the incident with Louise the previous afternoon, he hadn't had much of an appetite. And breakfast of course, was interrupted by the events of the morning. Not to mention, that they'd barely stopped to eat any lunch.

Apparently, Grandma Clemm was equally famished, as she commented, "I'm so hungry, my belly and backbone have growed together and my tongue is slappin my brains out."

Bosco stared at her curiously.

After everyone was seated and the blessing said, Pa Clemm started passing various dishes around. With a very large smile on his face, he passed a plate to Bosco. "Here boy, try this."

Bosco looked down at the plate. He couldn't really identify what it held. Whatever it was, it looked like it had been deep fried. The smell was a little unusual, but it didn't really smell badly. "What is it?" Bosco asked, as his stomach growled out loud.

"Chittlins" Pa Clemm replied.

"Chit-lins?" Bosco questioned. He'd never heard of it.

"Maurice, chittlins is.." Wanda Sue started, only to be shushed by Pa Clemm.

"Don't you worry bout what it is, Maurice. Just try it. You'll like it, I gaurrronteeee." Ezra assured him.

Bosco looked at the plate again. 'Oh what the heck. It hasn't killed them. Besides, I am starving.' Bosco thought. He forked three of the items onto his plate.

"Don't be bashful, boy. Eat up." Pa Clemm commented, forking another three chittlins onto Bosco's plate. He watched with a wide grin as Bosco took a bite and the curious look on his face turned to one of satisfaction. "See, I told ya. Good, ain't they? Here, have some ketchup with 'em." Pa Clemm added, dumping what seemed like half a bottle onto Bosco's plate.

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Pa Clemm pushed back from the table and sighed. Patting his very full belly, he commented, "I'm as full as a tick."

Bosco, also pushed away from the table, with a slight burp.

"Good, wadn't it, boy?" Pa questioned.

Bosco shook his head 'yes'. He was almost too full to move.

Pa Clemm stood up and slapped him on the back. "What do ya say we set a spell on the porch while the women folk clean up?"

"Sounds good." Bosco replied and followed Ezra out. He missed the cautioning eye that Ma Clemm gave Pa.

The two sat down in a pair of rocking chairs on one end of the porch. Bosco closed his eyes and took in the fresh night air. He could hear crickets chirping in the distance. Opening his eyes, he noticed Pa Clemm retrieving a jug from under a small table between the two rocking chairs.

Popping the cork out of the jug, Pa Clemm turned it up and took a long drink. "ahhhhhhhh." He hissed, a satisfied look on his face. Seeing Bosco watching him, he offered him the jug.

Bosco hesitantly took the jug from Pa Clemm and sniffed it curiously. "What is it?" He asked, seeing the sly grin on Pa Clemm's face.

"Rotten gut." Pa Clemm answered.

"Rotten gut?" Bosco was baffled.

"Moonshine." Pa Clemm clarified.

"Oh" Bosco replied as he looked back down at the jug. Glancing over again, he saw Pa Clemm nodding his head, as if signaling him to go on and take a drink. Hesitating slightly, Bosco raised the jug to his lips.

Pa Clemm watched as Bosco turned the jug up and took a swallow. Immediately his eyes clinched tight and his face scrunched up. He coughed violently, his face turning red, eyes watering. "Aarrrgggggggg." He groaned, his body shuddering violently.

"Easy now." Pa Clemm commented, reaching for the jug as Bosco continued to try to catch his breath. "She's a mite strong, ain't she?" Turning the jug up, Pa Clemm took another big swig.

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"May the bird of paradise fly up your nose…..May an elephant caress you with his toes….."

Bosco giggled uncontrollably, while trying to keep in tune with Pa Clemm's singing.

"May your wife be plagued with runners in her hose….. May the bird of paradise fly up your nose."

Both men howled with laughter, as Pa passed the now half empty jug back to Bosco.

Accepting it, Bosco commented "This stuff is….not tooooo…._hiccup_…bad."

"Not bad at all. What are we gonna sing next? You pick the next one, Maurice."

"I've got one…I've got one…" Bosoc muttered excitedly, a broad grin on his face. "If I had a girl and she was…_hiccup_…mine….I'd paint her…" Bosco stopped abruptly as the front door to the house swung open and a very angry Myrtle Clemm appeared on the porch, her hands braced on her hips.

"EZZRAAA CLEMM!" Looking from Ezra to a now red faced Bosco and back, she continued, "What do ya mean getting this poor boy drunk? What kind of an example is that?"

"Now Myrtle, honey. He just got a little carried away, that's all." Ezra replied.

"A little carried away? He's drunker than a skunk, Ezra!" Ma exclaimed.

At that, Bosco again began to chuckle. It was low at first, but then it grew louder.

Ma Clemm shook her head and pulled the jug from his hands. "I think you've had enough, Maurice." Looking back at Pa, she commented, "I suppose you got a little carried away too, Ezra."

"I ain't drunk, Ma. I'm as sober as a j-j-judge." Pa Clemm commented as he stood and stumbled a bit with his first step.

Ma Clemm was about to continue her tirade, when she was interrupted by a loud groan from Bosco.

Both she and Ezra glanced at him, Ezra commenting, "You ok, boy? Ya look a little green around the gills."

Bosco licked his lips and swallowed hard. "I….I think I'm gonna be sick." He mumbled.

"NOT ON MY PORCH!" Ma Clemm screamed, seeing Maurice begin to gag.

Pa Clemm was quick despite his somewhat inebriated state. He grabbed Bosco by his overalls and drug him off the porch and into the yard just in time.

Bosco fell to his knees clutching his stomach, as he began to heave. Ezra supported him from behind by the straps to his overalls.

After several minutes, Ezra muttered, "Dang, boy. How much did ya eat?"

Bosco let out a low groan, his head falling forward limply.

Moving around to Bosco's side, Ezra placed one hand on his forehead for support.

Bosco tried to open his eyes, hearing voices around him.

He felt something cool against his forehead and then heard an all too familiar voice.

_Maurice…Maurice, baby. Open your eyes._

"Ma….ma, I'm sick. Don't leave me, Ma." Bosco mumbled. He struggled to open his eyes and thought he saw Rose standing there.

_I know, baby. I know. I'm right here. _

"Ma?"

Pa Clemm looked up at Myrtle and now shook his head. "Poor fella thinks I'm his momma."

"Ezra Clemm, you aught to be ashamed of yourself…..makin that poor boy sick like that." She scolded.

Pa Clemm at least had the decency to look ashamed. "I didn't know it would do this to 'em, Myrt. Honest. I'm sorry."

"Well don't just stand there like a knot on a log. Get him to bed." Ma ordered.

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Disclaimers and other oddities:

The song is not mine:

May the Bird of Paradise Fly up Your Nose ; Little Jimmy Dickens; I'm Little, But I'm Loud: The Little Jimmy Dickens Collection

FYI: The official rules of jug ball do not allow throwing the jug at someone above their chest level.

For those of you who may not know what chittlins are, their proper name is chitterlings and they are pig intestines.

Warning: Never mix chitterlings and rotten gut.


	10. Detour, Chapter 10

Detour, Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or places. But I do own the Clemms.

Bosco groaned and pulled the pillow down over his head to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. "Ahhhhhhhhhh, my head."

"Maurice" 

"Ohhhhh…..not now, Ma. Sleeeeep." He mumbled.

"Maurice?"

Bosco squinted his eyes as the edge of the pillow was lifted up. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he finally focused on Wanda Sue's concerned face.

"Maurice, are you ok? Ma wanted me to come check on ya."

"Ummmm…head hurts." Bosco groaned as he rolled over onto his back, pulling the pillow down to his side. "What time is it?" He asked when he noticed how bright the room was.

"It's almost noon." Wanda answered. At Bosco's look, she continued "Pa decided to let ya sleep late since you was so sick last night. Ma Clemm ain't too happy with him for lettin ya drink that much."

Bosco wasn't really happy with him at the moment either.

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By the time Bosco managed to get himself upright and dressed, Ma and Grandma Clemm were serving lunch.

Bosco picked at his food for a while, but ate very little. He noticed that Pa Clemm didn't eat much either. He was never more grateful than he was to see Ma Clemm drop two aspirin down on the table next to his plate. "Thanks." He muttered.

"Maurice" Pa Clemm spoke in a low voice. "There's still some more bush hoggin to do. I got a bit of a late start myself this morning. So if ya want to give that ole tractor a try, you're welcome to."

"Ummm…sure." Bosco mumbled, still not thinking very clearly. Immediately he regretted that answer.

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"Now, Maurice, ya have to be a mite careful with her. The steerin wheel gets stuck sometimes if ya turn it too far. If it does that, just hit the clutch and the brake to slow it down and rock the steerin wheel back and forth a few times until it straightens up. Now the brake's a mite touchy sometimes. So ya may have to stomp on it pretty hard. "

Bosco was busy trying to figure out a way to get out of this latest little adventure and failed to digest Pa Clemm's warnings. His head was still throbbing, and the afternoon sun beating down on him wasn't helping. Sweat trickled down his back. But more than that, he'd never driven a tractor or anything similar to it, although he refused to tell Pa Clemm this. He sighed, trying to reassure himself 'Ok, clutch, throttle, brake. It can't be that much different from driving my mustang.'

He made sure that the tractor was in first gear and let off the clutch. The tractor lurched forward much faster than Bosco expected, jarring his throbbing head. But soon, he was moving along with ease. Pa Clemm nodded in approval, then went on to finish some other chores.

'Ok, so this is not that hard.' Bosco was thinking. 'I can do this. It's even kind of fun.' Bosco even found himself whistling a tune.

Glancing up, he noticed Wanda Sue watching him from under the shade of the mulberry tree. Smiling, he lifted his right hand from the steering wheel to wave at her. But just as he did, the front wheel of the tractor hit a large rut that was hidden by the tall grass. Feeling the tractor lurch to the right, Bosco jerked the steering wheel to the left trying to get it back under control. When he did, the steering wheel became stuck and Bosco soon found himself driving around in a tight circle and going much too fast for his liking. A couple of times the outside wheels of the tractor almost felt as if they were going to come off of the ground. He tried pulling back on the steering wheel to straighten it up, but it didn't budge. Then he tried hitting the clutch and break to slow the tractor down. Much to his dismay, the brake didn't seem to work.

"Oh crap." He mumbled. Looking back up at Wanda Sue, he noticed her chuckling. "Help! It's not funny. I can't stop this thing." He shouted, but Wanda Sue could not hear him over the loud roar of the old motor.

"Maurice, quit being silly! You're going to hurt yourself!" Wanda Sue shouted.

She could see that Bosco was trying to shout something back at her, but couldn't tell what it was.

Bosco was focused on Wanda Sue, trying to get her to understand that he needed help, when suddenly he hit a hole in the field, a natural pothole so to speak. The jar from this caused the steering wheel to release and the wheels to straighten out. Bosco was momentarily relieved, until he looked up and saw that he was headed straight for the woods. He hit the clutch and began to pump on the brakes, but they didn't respond. And Bosco, his reflexes still slightly slow from his hangover, failed to duck. As he entered the woods, several small tree limbs slapped his face. "Arrrrrrgh" He moaned.

Wanda Sue, seeing Bosco and the tractor disappear into the woods, finally realized that Bosco was not playing around. "PA! PA, COME QUICK!" she shouted, frantically calling for Ezra Clemm.

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"Ohhhhh. Ahhhhhhhhhh. Ouch." Bosco whined.

As if being repeatedly slapped in the face by tree branches wasn't bad enough, Bosco and the runaway tractor had managed to go through an overgrown thicket. Then, the tractor ran into a small ditch and tilted over, dumping Bosco unceremoniously on the hard ground.

Slowly pushing himself into a seated position, Bosco looked down at the torn and tattered overalls he was wearing. Several huge briars stuck out of the pants legs. From the pain in his legs, he knew that many of them had fully penetrated the thick cloth.

'_Maurice'_

"Maurice! Maurice! Are you ok?" Wanda Sue shouted as she approached him. Dropping down on her knees beside him, she looked him over. "You poor dear." Taking Bosco's head in her hands, she tilted his face up toward her. Pulling out a handkerchief, she dabbed at the cuts and scratches made by the tree limbs. "Pa should of warned ya about that old tractor."

Wincing as Wanda Sue probed one of the cuts on his face, Bosco reached up and grabbed her right wrist.

"Sorry" Wanda Sue muttered, looking into Bosco's deep blue eyes.

"It's ok." Bosco answered quietly. Then he did something that he never expected and didn't really understand. Leaning forward, he reached out with his right hand and pulled Wanda Sue toward him, capturing her lips in a kiss.

Wanda Sue, apparently also caught up in the moment, didn't resist. In fact, she wrapped her arms around Bosco's neck, kissing him long and hard.

"WANDA SUE CLEMM!" Pa Clemm screamed, grabbing Wanda by the arm and pulling her away from Bosco. "YOU LET GO OF THAT YANKEE!" Pulling her to her feet, he looked at her in disbelief. "What's gotten into you girl? I thought you'd learned your lesson."

Wanda Sue stood in shock, unable to speak.

"It's not what you think, Sir." Bosco tried to come to Wanda Sue's defense.

"Not what I think. NOT WHAT I THINK?" Pa Clemm shouted as he turned toward Bosco, his fists clinched and the vein on his forehead standing out. "Why you dirty stinkin lowdown polecat! I trusted you. Took you into my home. Gave you a bed to sleep in, food to eat, and even let you drink my best moonshine. And this is how you repay me. By takin advantage of my little baby girl. Not what I think…hmph. I'm gonna break every bone in your mangy little body, boy!"

And with that, Pa Clemm lunged at Bosco, swinging with all his might.

"PA! PA, STOP! YOU'LL KILL 'EM, PA! MAURICE! MAURICE!"

'_Maurice!' _

"Maurice. Maurice, baby. Open your eyes. It's ok. That's it. Open you're eyes, baby."

"Ma" Bosco mumbled, as he struggled to open his eyes. Squinting up, he could see a white tile ceiling and a bright light. Then seeing his mother's face, he thought at first she might be an angel. Maybe Pa Clemm had killed him. But then again, why would he hurt so much if he was dead? "Ma?" he rasped.

"Shhhhhh. It's ok, Maurice. You're going to be ok." Rose soothed, pushing the hair back from Bosco's forehead. Seeing the confused look on his face, she tried to explain what was happening. "You're in the hospital, Maurice. There was a plane crash. Do you remember?"

"Pl…plane." Bosco squeezed his eyes closed, remembering the plane, the engine trouble, Polly Bennet, the crash…..Ezra Clemm. His eyes jerked open as he heard a familiar voice.

"Well, it's good to see you're awake, sonny." Ezra Clemm commented, looking down at Bosco.

Seeing the panic in her son's face, Rose Boscorelli tried to calm him. "Maurice, calm down, baby. You're ok. Dr. Clemm is here to help you."

'Dr. Clemm?' Bosco looked up at Pa Clemm, studying him. He was definitely Ezra Clemm, but he wasn't wearing overalls and he didn't look angry. He was wearing a dress shirt and tie and had a white coat on over it. A stethoscope hung around his neck. He looked at Bosco with concerned and spoke with a quiet voice.

"That's right, Officer Boscorelli." Dr. Clemm replied.

Bosco looked back and forth between his mother and Ezra Clemm, obviously distressed. "Pa? Wanda Sue?" Bosco questioned, looking at Rose for help.

"Oh, sweetheart." Rose smiled down at him. "You've been so confused. You've been in and out…dreaming…" Rose began to chuckle. "And you've had some pretty interesting adventures."

"Dreaming?" Bosco questioned, looking back over at Ezra Clemm.

"Yes, Officer. You've been dreaming, even hallucinating at times. You sustained a minor head injury in the crash, along with a broken arm, and several pretty serious burns. I think it was the combination of the injuries, along with complications with infection, and the pain medication that we've had you on that's had you so confused. I'm glad to see that you're more alert today."

Seeing the still hesitant look on Bosco's face, he added. "Maybe I should introduce myself again. I'm Dr. Edward Ezra Clemm, the third." Dr. Clemm reached out, patting Bosco on the arm rather than attempting to shake his hand since one arm was casted and the other one bandaged. "I'll let you rest now, but you have Myrt call me if you need anything." And with that, he left.

Bosco looked back up at Rose, who was still grinning slightly. "Myrt?"

"Myrtle…she's one of the nurses here, Maurice. I don't know what we'd have done without them. They've all been so good to you. And to me."

Bosco closed his eyes, trying to comprehend what was happening. Pa Clemm was Dr. Clemm and Myrtle Clemm was Myrtle, the nurse. He apparently had been dreaming about Clemm Creek. But he was in a plane crash and he was injured. Opening his eyes, he glanced down at the bandages on his arms. A blanket covered his legs, but he could tell by the slight pain that he had despite whatever pain medication they had him on, that they were injured. Burned he guessed.

'Polly' He suddenly remembered Polly and her knitting. Looking up at Rose, he asked about her.

"She's in another room on the next floor up, Maurice. I've met her and her husband. You saved her life, Maurice…somehow you managed to pull her from the plane despite your injuries. They're both very grateful. Her husband is a planter. And he's offered to have us flown back to New York in his private plane when you're better." Rose, seeing the weary look on Bosco's face, added. "You rest now, baby."

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"Some-where the sun is shin-ing, Some-where the song birds dwell; Hush, then, thy sad re-pin-ing, God lives, and all is well."

Bosco slowly opened his eyes and glanced around the room. He saw another familiar face standing at the foot of the bed, writing on a clipboard. "Wanda?"

"Oh, hey there. I didn't mean to wake you. I'm in a habit of singing when the day is going along ok." Wanda Sue replied.

"S'ok." Bosco answered. "It's pretty."

"Thanks" Wanda Sue commented, her cheeks turning slightly red. "How are you feeling? Can I get something for you?"

"Um…no. Where's Ma?"

"Oh, she went to get some lunch. She should be back in a few minutes." Wanda answered, then added. "I'm surprised that you recognized me this time. I must have introduced myself to you at least a dozen times. But you were so in and out. Anyway, I'll be back to check on you in a little while. Just push the call button if ya need anything."

"Ok" Bosco mumbled, then drifted off once again.


	11. Detour, Chapter 11

Detour, Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or places.

Bosco grabbed two radios and headed towards the front desk to meet Faith. It had been almost 6 months since the accident. And although he had to have a skin graft procedure on one of his legs and several weeks of physical therapy, he was almost one hundred percent.

"You ready, Yokas?" Bosco asked.

"In a minute, Bos." Faith continued talking to Swersky.

"WHERE IS HE?"

Bosco froze momentarily. He recognized that voice.

Turning around, he was shocked to see Pa Clemm entering the precinct dragging Wanda Sue…a very pregnant Wanda Sue, Bosco noted….behind him with one hand and carrying a double barreled shotgun in the other.

"YOU!!!" Pa Clemm growled, pointing the shotgun barrel towards Bosco. "YOU DID THIS TO HER!"

"Excuse me?" Bosco answered in disbelief, looking from Pa Clemm to Wanda Sue and back. Wanda Sue just stared at the floor.

"You took advantage of my baby girl! And now you're gonna make things right!" Pa Clemm shouted.

Bosco opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He pointed at Wanda Sue and sputtered, finally managing a "not m…me…not mine…no….uh uh." Looking at Wanda Sue for help, he got none.

"Don't you lie to me, boy! I know you done it! And you're gonna marry her!" Pa Clemm insisted, poking Bosco in the chest with the shotgun.

"WHOA! WHOA! Wait a minute. I never did anything but kiss her."

Seeing the look of contempt on Pa Clemm's face, Bosco turned to Lieutenant Swersky. "Lieu, you have to believe me. Honestly. I never touched her, except that one kiss in the thicket. You have to believe me, Lieu."

Swersky crossed his arms, giving Bosco a look of disbelief, knowing his reputation with the ladies. "Sorry, Bosco. But you made your bed. Now you'll have to lie in it."

"I didn't make any bed. It wasn't my bed." Bosco argued.

Turning to Faith, he pleaded. "Faith, you know I didn't do this. I'd have told you if I did. Tell him." Seeing Faith look down at the ground, he continued. "Faith….Faith, you know me. Please."

Faith looked up, shaking her head. "You order it, you have to eat it, Bos."

Bosco let out an exasperated sigh. Turning, he saw Sully and Ty looking on from behind.

"Sul. You believe me. Don't you? It's not mine." Bosco muttered.

Sully put up his hands, palms facing Bosco. "Sorry. I can't help you, Bosco."

"Ty?" Bosco questioned, his hope diminishing.

Ty just shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what to say.

As Bosco's head dropped in despair, he felt something tugging on his pants leg. Turning, he looked down to see Junior Clemm, his face dirty, hair tossled, one hand grasping Bosco's pants leg and the other holding a bullfrog.

"Are you gonna be my new daddy, Mr. Bosco?" Junior asked.

"He's gonna be if'n he wants to live to see t'morrow, Junior!" Pa Clemm answered. "COME ON!" He shouted as he grabbed Bosco by the front of his uniform shirt and started dragging him towards the front door of the precinct. "We're goin back to Mississippi!"

"NO! WAIT! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! IT' S NOT MINE!" Bosco screamed, as he struggled to halt his own progression out of the precinct. He grabbed on to the front door frame as they passed, forcing Pa Clemm to stop and turn back toward him.

"Wait!" Bosco cried. "Just listen to me, ok. We can work this out." Bosco said more calmly, causing Pa Clemm to release him. "We'll figure this out. Now, I don't know who the father of Wanda Sue's baby is, but I know that it's not me. But we'll…"

"What are you sayin?" Pa Clemm interrupted. "You think my baby's been dilly dallying around with just anybody? She ain't no whoremonger, if that's what ya think." Pa Clemm grumbled, his brow creasing and his fist clinching.

"No! No. That's not what I meant." Bosco put up his hands and shook his head. "I wasn't saying that. Just that it's not mine. I didn't do that to her." Bosco said, pointing at Wanda Sue's protuberant abdomen.

"Well how do you suppose she got that way then?" Pa Clemm asked, tilting his head sideways and squinting an eye while waiting for Bosco's response.

Bosco shrugged his shoulders and almost jokingly responded. "I don't know. Maybe it was another immaculate conception."

"That's just like you city folk." Pa Clemm commented. "Always givin somethin some new fangled name so as to make it all right! Well, it ain't alright! And there ain't nothin gonna make it right but a weddin!" With that he grabbed Bosco again and yanked him out the door.

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_**The Possumneck Courier**_

_**Boskerelly and Clemm Marry at Clemm Creek**_

Maurice Boskerelly and Wanda Sue Clemm, daughter of Ezra and Myrtle Clemm married at Clemm Creek last Tuesday. Brother Virgil Hawthorne officiated. The ceremony was held under the shade of a mulberry tree.

The bride wore a dress made from cotton flour sacks with a floral pattern. The bodice of the dress was accented with Queen Anne's lace. Her head was adorned with a wreath of honey suckle vine interspersed with fresh cotton bolls. She carried a bouquet of prickler weed, golden rod, and oxeyedaisies.

Esther Artemissia Clemm, the bride's Grandma, served as the matron of honor. The bride was given away by her father, with her brother Herman standing by (with a shotgun just in case the groom got cold feet). Junior Clemm, stood in as the best man for his new daddy.

Afterward friends and family celebrated with the happy couple with a community hoedown.

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"NO! AHHHHHHHH!" Bosco shouted, as he attempted to jump up and became tangled in the afghan that Polly Bennett had crocheted for him. Falling from the recliner onto the floor, his eyes darted around the room. He took a deep breath and relaxed when he realized he was in New York in his apartment and _not _caught up in some twisted HEE HAW episode. Pushing himself from his knees into a sitting position, he picked up the letter that he had been reading before he dosed off.

Despite the time that had passed since the accident and the distance between them, Bosco and Polly had remained good friends. They corresponded through letters, although Bosco would never admit this to anyone, and occasionally spoke on the phone. Today's letter contained good news. Polly's daughter was pregnant again and little Junior, Polly's grandson, was very excited. Bosco had heard all about Junior along with the rest of Polly's family on the plane before the crash. Grandma Bennett was doing ok, although she "gets a little more senile every day." Bosco opened the newspaper clipping that Polly had sent along. Who would have thought that Wanda Sue would marry her boyfriend Herman considering all the complaining she had done about him? But she was a wonderful girl and Bosco only hoped that she'd be happy.

Placing the letter and clipping on the small table beside the recliner, Bosco untangled himself from the afghan and slowly rose to his feet. Most of his physical injuries had completely healed, but he still had the dreams of Clemm Creek on occasion. His doctors said that the dreams were his body's way of avoiding the trauma associated with the crash and those first few days in the hospital. Bosco didn't really understand all that. All he knew was that there were some days when the Clemms seemed so real it was frightening.

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Disclaimer #2: I do not own Hee Haw.

Hope you enjoyed it folks. Ya'll come back now, ya hear.


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